


Baby Steps

by Sincerely_Sierra



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Baby, Comedy-Drama, Domestic Coven, F/F, Godmothers, Hurt/Comfort, LGBT Themes, Magic, baby girl OC, everyday mishaps, parenting, spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 03:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21367777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincerely_Sierra/pseuds/Sincerely_Sierra
Summary: Following the birth of their daughter, Zoe and Madison are faced with the trials of magic and motherhood wrapped in pretty packaging. Though, it’s not so pretty.
Relationships: Cordelia Goode/Misty Day, Zoe Benson/Madison Montgomery
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	1. Adjusting

**Author's Note:**

> The start of this series is very much long overdo. I know that, in Apocalypse, Madison mentioned not wanting kids. I did not pretend that never happened; it is addressed in the first chapter. This might seem a little out of the ordinary, but I’m always willing to venture outside of what I’m used to. This multi-chapter story is my practice. Enjoy!

Neither Zoe or Madison are exactly consummate at being mothers. They were somehow able to surmount the first three weeks of Evangeline’s life, with Cordelia and Misty’s help, without much hindrance. And by that, they imply that they’ve managed to keep their newborn daughter alive for this short yet exhaustingly-long amount of time.

It’s nowhere near what they expected during Zoe’s pregnancy. Habitually, they did not expect for it to be a total breeze and they’d end up with a (figuratively) magical baby that never cries and sleeps like an angel through the night. However, they didn’t expect to be awake four times a night, feeding and rocking and having to scrape an insufferable amount of baby vomit off their clothes. 

Madison loves her daughter, but had she seen this coming, she would have convinced Zoe not to spend months perfecting a spell to create a child with both of their DNA, and gotten a puppy from a shelter instead. 

Cordelia insists it will pass with time; that Evangeline is only three weeks old and is the most vulnerable and needy right now but it won’t last forever. It’s very easy for her to say. She doesn’t have to sit glued to a rocking chair with a wailing neonate in her arms at three in the morning as she begs for sleep—or Papa Legba, at this point—to whisk her away into the cold winter night. 

Living in the academy means that there’s no hope for Evangeline to have her own room to sleep in, even if it was for sleeping only. She doesn’t need a bedroom to play or study in like everyone else here; she just needs a place far away from Zoe and Madison to sleep. Despite Cordelia’s offerings, Zoe refuses to burden her with the relentless shrieking Evangeline puts on in the middle of the night. It’s a sweet gesture, but it wouldn’t seem fair. 

Madison suggests to attempt a schedule, although Evangeline is a bit young for one to be at all feasible. Zoe is hesitant on the idea, but she agrees. She hasn’t showered in four days and is willing to try just about anything at this point. 

After dinner, Zoe and Madison check on the newborn, who’s resting peacefully in the bassinet stood on its personal stand at the foot of their bed in the old drafty room. She’s so tiny; born at only six little pounds. She’s somehow tinier when she’s swaddled in the white crochet blanket Mallory made for her prior to her birth. 

“Great,” Madison sighs in defeat. “She’s asleep now, that means she’ll be up all night.”

“She’s a newborn. They sleep a lot,” Zoe says. “She’ll wake up for a feeding and then we can try and keep her up until we go to bed.” 

It’s sounds terrible coming out of Zoe’s mouth. She’s aware that new babies are supposed to sleep and wake in short bursts, and that her child is perfectly normal and she shouldn’t toy with her natural cycle for her own gain. But this is a special type of hell customized for her and Madison. 

“Is she breathing?” Madison suddenly asks. 

Zoe pushes back the canopy of the bassinet to get a clearer look at Evangeline. Under the white fabric of blanket, her tiny belly moves rhythmically up and down. Both women let out a quick sigh of relief. Zoe raises the canopy, which makes a clicking noise as it settles into place, and Evangeline begins to stir. 

“Fucking hell,” Madison curses under her breath. “Don’t wake up, don’t wake up.”

Apparently, that does nothing for a sleeping newborn. Evangeline wakes with a jolt of her little legs, and then she’s wide-eyed, the grayish pupils searching about the room as far as her vision can reach. Her hands clench into fists and she scrunches her body up in that way that prepares Madison and Zoe for the impending wails. 

Madison reacts first. She grabs the screeching baby from her bassinet and holds her in the infamous football hold, patting her little bottom while shushing and bouncing her. Evangeline’s crying doesn’t let up for a second, until Madison begins to softly hum to her. 

“Oh, thank god,” Zoe breathes, hand over her chest as the crying begins to fade into tired whimpers and then into nothing. 

“She’s actually going back to sleep,” Madison observes in amazement, continuing the bouncing motion. 

A few more bounces sends the baby back to her dreamland, where she was before Zoe disrupted it. With Madison’s new parenting victory, she lays Evangeline down in the bassinet and carefully wraps the blanket around her to avoid the draft. Marveling at their beautiful creation, Zoe and Madison sigh in awe, oxytocin rushing to their brains. 

“I think she looks like you more than me,” Zoe points out in a whisper. 

“No way. She has your hair,” Madison replies, suggesting towards the tuft of honey brown hair sneaking out of Evangeline’s white cap. “Her eyes might look like yours, too. I can see it.”

It’s to be admitted, Madison is somewhat sour that Evangeline doesn’t look much like her despite Zoe spending hundreds of hours perfecting the spell to allow their baby to share both their genetics. It seems like such a waste now. 

“Remember when you said you didn’t want kids? Because you were afraid it wouldn’t be cool or good-looking?” Zoe gently snickers. “What happened to that?”

Rolling her eyes, Madison can’t fight the tiny twitch of her mouth as she looks at her wife of three years, playfully nudging her in the ribs. 

“Well, guess what? You’re her mother, so she will be good-looking. And I’m her mother, so she will be cool. I don’t have anything to worry about,” Madison says. 

Zoe can’t rightfully argue with that. Instead of pestering Madison any further about something so trivial and futile to dwell on, she admires her daughter, who’s still peacefully sleeping. The way Evangeline’s pink lips pucker in her slumber reminds Zoe of how Madison’s do the same when she’s having a good dream. Madison is wrong; Evangeline is like her in the most marvelous of ways. 

“I think we still have another half hour to work with,” Zoe says, eyes shifting up at their grandfather clock that reads a quarter past eight. “Let’s go downstairs and see if Cordelia saved us any pie.”

Drinking in one last glance at Evangeline, Madison nods in agreement and tiptoes out of the room behind Zoe, who flicks off the light. As soon as the room is immersed in darkness, a cry pierces through the air, severing the silence. 

Madison slams her head against the doorframe. “Motherfucker!”

+++

It’s Madison’s turn to do laundry. She’s no good at it, honestly, but Zoe doesn’t mind if Evangeline’s mountain of white baby clothes are lightly stained pink or blue after Madison mixes the colors together. 

Madison throws the baby’s laundry basket on the couch and begins pulling tiny onesies and pants out. She becomes disgruntled upon finding that some of them have been dyed purple; this happened last week and she hates that she can’t get it right. How hard is it to properly separate the colors? 

Zoe comes downstairs rubbing her eyes with her free hand; the other holds the baby monitor, which she sets on the end table. Madison continues folding stained baby clothes as Zoe sits beside her. 

“Where’s Evangeline?” Madison questions, folding a burp cloth in her lap. 

“Asleep. It took me forever to get her down,” Zoe replies. 

“Ugh!” Madison huffs and throws a formerly-white onesie into the basket. “They’re stained! I did it again! Why can’t you do the laundry? I’m always doing it because shit is always coming out of her!” 

Cordelia enters silently, easing her way around the couch to grab her cellphone off the coffee table. She pretends she’s checking her messages as the two women argue. 

“Well, since I take care of what goes into the baby, you can take care of the aftermath of what comes out!” Zoe points out. “I can’t do it by myself!”

“You’re not! I’m still here! I change her all the time and do the laundry! That’s it! It’s not like I can feed her or something; my tits are dry!” Madison exclaims as she gestures to her chest. 

Pursing her lips, Cordelia begins to move out of the room again without constraint, not wanting to put herself in the line of fire. Zoe catches her supreme avoiding the confrontation and halts her.

“Cordelia!” Zoe calls. 

Cordelia freezes up and spins around on her heel, smile taut and stiff.

“Yes, Zoe?” 

“Hear me out; who’s in the wrong here? I obviously feed the baby almost all the time because she’s breastfed. We have only given her three bottles since she was born, one of which I fed her, so it’s not like Madison can help me in that aspect,” Zoe says. Cordelia nods. “With that being said, since I’m the food, shouldn’t Madison take care of the cleanup to make it fair?”

“Well. . .” Cordelia trails off, shrugging one shoulder. 

Madison interjects, dropping a receiving blanket. “Okay, I get it. I can’t feed her so I should do the other stuff, but I need help with it! Look at what I did to her clothes! It’s not fifty-fifty if you’re just feeding her. That’s more like seventy-thirty. Why do you think I suggested a schedule? So we know who’s responsible for what and when. You wake me up to go get the baby and hand her over to you so you can feed her and that’s all! Then when I’m trying to get dressed, you give her to me so you can get take a shower.” 

Cordelia nods hesitantly, treading lightly with this topic. She is not a mother, and she doesn’t know just how difficult having a newborn can be, so she tries not to overstep her boundaries more than Zoe is requesting her to.

“Okay, girls,” Cordelia says, “listen carefully. You cannot put Evangeline on a schedule just yet. She is a newborn and doesn’t know how to regulate herself yet. She is going to eat when she is hungry, cry when she wants, and sleep when she is tired. You cannot fix that. The most you can do is adjust your schedules to fit hers for now, until she’s older and learns to sleep through the night. So, instead of doing things separately, you should get it done together to save yourselves time. Take showers and get dressed together. Have breakfast together. Do everything that needs to be done while she’s asleep. Take a nap together. Go to sleep at the same time. Wake up at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone and you’ll find it to be much more equal.”

The two mothers look at each other as if an epiphany arose. They share a knowing smile, and Zoe wraps her arms around Cordelia’s waist in a hug. Cordelia gently pats the young woman’s head. 

Queenie enters, pulling a cotton ball out of her ear. “Why are you letting the baby cry like that? I can hardly hear myself think!”

Madison scoffs and points to their monitor. “She’s not crying. We have a monitor!”

Queenie swipes the monitor and pushes the dial, and the unmistakable cry of a newborn fills the room. Smugly, Queenie waves it in Madison’s face. Zoe rolls her eyes and lets go of Cordelia, making her way upstairs. She looks back at Madison. 

“Well, are you just gonna sit there? Aren’t we supposed to do this together?” Zoe tells her wife, whom she loves dearly but has accepted can be a wench.

Madison throws a cloth to the side and gets up.

“Of course! I’ll hand her to you and you can pull out your boobs and annoy me for twenty minutes while you feed her! The world would die if you didn’t!”

They bicker incoherently the entire way up the stairs, and Cordelia shakes her head with a soft sigh. 

Queenie looks at Cordelia and says, “It may not be our religion, but I think we should pray for that baby.”

+++

That evening, after a hearty dinner, Zoe is reviewing a new lesson plan that was put into place a few days after she gave birth to Evangeline. She is not yet back to teaching full-time, but it was quite a stun when she took over a class last week and found the material had been altered. The new lesson schedule seems a little off, but because it was Cordelia who suggested it, Zoe doesn’t even begin to question it. 

The unaccustomed mothers attempt Cordelia’s advice; they had dinner together with the rest of the coven rather than Madison bringing Zoe a sandwich while the latter stayed upstairs to watch over or nurse Evangeline to sleep. Madison, who is currently in consideration for a council position, is studying a booklet of her potential requirements while Zoe looks over the lesson plan. It’s peaceful, to say the least.

“I don’t think I should take the position,” Madison says abruptly, causing Zoe to remove her reading glasses in confusion.

“What do you mean? You’ve wanted to be on the council since. . .since you’ve gotten well after coming back,” Zoe says. “What’s stopping you now?”

Madison moves from the rocking chair to sit on the bed, but her eyes look anywhere other than her wife. She admires her baby sleeping so soundly, and smiles.

“I’m worried about her,” whispers Madison. “Council work. . .it can be a really shitty position. You have to travel to back Cordelia up, you have to follow a lot of bullshit rules, and you don’t get jack shit in return but demands. Plus, there’s that judge, jury, executioner thing. I don’t want to leave the baby for days at a time to take care of some coven business or execute a witch. I’d rather you take your seat on the council back and I can stay here. You’re good at it. All I’m good for is taking care of my kid. She needs at least one of us here. If we are both on the council, who will take care of her when we have to travel? I am not taking her with us to an execution or a meeting with the warlocks. That’s fucking out of the question.”

Putting her lesson plan away, Zoe crawls behind Madison and wraps her arms around her from behind, pulling her close. She gently kisses the spot beneath Madison’s ear. 

“Maddie, you really are such a softie,” Zoe hums, almost teasing.

“Ugh, get off.”

She doesn’t push her off, though. Instead, she welcomes Zoe’s affection and leans into it. Their mushy moments like this one have been a rarity for them since welcoming a baby into their lives. After marriage, they were all about the honeymoon phase for awhile, but since Zoe had been heavily pregnant for the last few months, the romance died off in favor of grouchy mood swings and inconsolable tears. Now that Zoe is almost back to normal, perhaps this is the universe telling them that they can’t return to that state of love.

“You really love Eve, and you don’t wanna leave her,” Zoe tells Madison. “That’s normal. You’re her mother. Why are you blushing?”

“Because!” Madison exclaims, craning her neck to look at Zoe. “It’s weird being this way. Even when I knew I was about to have a child, I was still a little bitch. Now that she’s actually here. . .I can’t do it anymore. I have to take care of her. And I don’t want my baby’s first word to be ‘cunt’. It looks trashy.”

Zoe giggles and nuzzles her nose in Madison’s neck, kissing her shoulder. 

“That’s not gonna happen as long as I’m here to balance it out,” Zoe insists. “About the council, I want you to take it, okay? I’m not reprising my role for another month or so. Cordelia and I agreed I would go back to teaching full-time four weeks after Evangeline was born and return to the council two months after birth. We still have time to think about what we’re gonna do with her. For now, I want you to accept it. It’s all you’ve wanted, so you should take it.”

“I don’t know. . .”

“You take it on your own will or I’ll tell Cordelia to force you to take it. Your choice.” Zoe’s tone provides sincerity between the thinly-veiled lines of teasing. 

Madison sighs in defeat and nods, leaning back into Zoe, who squeezes her affectionately and kisses her cheek and gently sways them side to side like she does to Evangeline at bedtime. 

Their door swings open and Mallory enters, cutting the couple’s moment short. Madison clenches her fist.

“Who left a dirty diaper in my bathroom trash?” Mallory asks. “It smells horrible.”

“Well, so do you, but we still keep you, you little runt,” Madison snaps back. “And what did I say about knocking?”

“You’d cut my head off and hang it on the Christmas tree like an ornament if I didn’t.”

Zoe’s eyes widen. “Madison!”

“Oh, relax. I said that months ago when I was in a bad mood.” Madison pulls herself out of Zoe’s embrace. “Fine. I’ll go properly dispose of it if you’ll leave us alone.”

“Yes, thank you! Who knew something so little could smell so bad,” Mallory says, crinkling her nose. 

Zoe shoots Madison a warning look, pointing to the bassinet that holds their daughter. Thinking twice about calling Mallory any sort of profanity, Madison slinks out of the room and goes to retrieve the soiled diaper she may or may not have purposely left in Mallory’s trash can.

Mallory looks at her teacher. “I told my mom that you two have a baby now. She said she prays for her every single night.”

“I don’t blame her.”

+++


	2. Let’s Call it Quits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoe struggles to decide if she wants to quit nursing Evangeline. Meanwhile, Madison tries to quit smoking for good.

Cluster feeding is an absolute nightmare only a monster could ever create. Though, that monster would have to be a woman who was forced to breastfeed twenty babies and decided that every other woman who bore a child should face a similar fate.

Whoever that woman was, all Zoe has to say to her is, “Fuck you. Just fuck you.”

Zoe tiredly sits in the rocking chair sat in the corner of their bedroom, left leg crossed over the right. Her back is stiff despite the back of the chair having a cushion tied around it for her and Madison’s comfort. She hates herself, because she stupidly left her nursing support pillow on the bed all the way across the room, and she made the mistake of allowing Evangeline to nurse before she had a chance to grab it. 

Using her arms as the only support, Zoe pulls the baby closer to her body. Her black tee is soiled with baby vomit and other odd stains from who knows where; it’s been a rough month. She lost her expensive bra awhile ago, but she’s pretty sure Madison somehow fit into it by accident after a night chalked full of sleep deprivation and dirty diapers. It’s fine, though. Just one less hassle Zoe has to deal with when she needs to pop a tit out. 

“Ouch, kid,” Zoe winces. “You’re hurting Mommy, Eva.” 

Evangeline is barely touching five weeks of age; she cares solely about getting her milk and is completely oblivious as to how much pain she can cause Zoe, in the same way that Zoe ignores how poor her latch on her nipple can be at times. Sometimes the newborn is lazy in her breastfeeding, but other times, she is completely ravenous. 

It’s Saturday morning and Zoe is already on nursing session number three. Lately she’s been trying to introduce the horrendous pump into her routine more often than she had been in the past few weeks so Madison can take over, but between teaching and mothering, she has next to no time to sit attached to that torture device. Even thinking about it sends a shiver up her achy spine.

Zoe didn’t bring a book to pass time, either. Her phone is wedged in her back pocket. And Evangeline doesn’t seem anywhere near finished. The tiny babe pulls off her mother’s breast, tosses her head around, and scrunches her nose. Sighing in both pain and annoyance, Zoe pulls her stained shirt down on that side in favor of rising it on the other. 

Evangeline stares at the bared nipple for a moment before bringing her little hand to it, pawing gently with a fist, then latches on with a derelict movement, narrowly missing it completely. 

Everything in Zoe’s body hurts. The throbbing of her skull heightens when Madison comes through the door cursing about something, bringing along with her the scent of expensive perfume and cigarettes. Zoe ignores the other woman; she’s known Madison far too long to get in the middle of an obscure rant. 

“This is so hard!” Madison groans in frustration as she tugs at her wild blonde hair that she’s obviously been trying to rip out. “Every time I try not to go and smoke, it just makes me wanna do it more! And then I cave in and my progress is ruined! Ruined! I made it one day and I failed!”

Madison stops her angry pacing long enough to watch her baby head-butt Zoe’s boob, hard. Zoe yelps like a wounded animal and pulls Evangeline away from herself. The newborn begins to howl loudly, having lost her sense of comfort, and the sound Zoe made startling her from the previously peaceful environment. 

“I need five,” Zoe says, flustered as she gets up from the chair and passes Evangeline over to Madison. 

“Wait! I think she’s still hungry! She won’t be quiet!” Madison shouts over the wailing, bouncing Evangeline from side to side. 

“She was just gumming on my nipple; she wasn’t eating,” Zoe says with a shrug. “I need a few minutes by myself. I’ll come back with a bottle.”

Zoe goes to leave, but Madison calls her name, which causes her to look back with a disgruntled expression. Madison uses a free hand to tug at her own blouse while she’s bouncing. Zoe glances down at her chest and finds her left breast fully exposed. Red in the face, she yanks it down and runs downstairs before the crying can get to her. 

Madison sighs when Zoe is gone, feeling alone and empty and craving a good, satisfying smoke. 

Realizing she won’t be receiving any more boob for now, Evangeline calms down in Madison’s arms, reduced to simple hiccups with a trail of Zoe’s milk dribbling out of the corner of her tiny mouth. 

Madison attempts to lay the baby in her bassinet, but as soon as physical contact is lost, Evangeline cries. 

Madison sucks in her cheek. “I need a fucking cigarette.” 

+++

Zoe uses what bit of pumped milk she had in the fridge for Evangeline’s next feeding. She pours it into a bottle—the good brand that prevents air bubbles, Cordelia’s suggestion—and looks inside the dishwasher for a cap and nipple. Misty enters with Cordelia’s old MP3 player playing Stevie Nicks, again. God damn Cordelia and her introducing the swamp witch to new things. 

“I haven’t seen ya all morning!” Misty chirps. “Where you been?”

“I’ve been kinda busy,” Zoe says with her head inside the dishwasher. She pulls back and looks at Misty, who’s now tapping her foot. “You haven’t by chance seen baby bottle parts, have you?” 

“Mmm, nope! Ask Delia. She did the dishes last night,” replies Misty as she slides onto a bar stool at the kitchen island. “I thought baby witch was solely on the boob? Oh! I’m sorry; I shouldn’t ask personal stuff like that. Cordelia said it’s invasive. Dammit.”

Zoe cracks the smallest of smiles and waves off Misty’s fumbling for apologies. She takes the uncapped bottle of milk and puts it on the island so she doesn’t knock it over in her search. 

“It’s fine. . .she is, mostly. But I’m so exhausted lately and she can really hurt me. Madison and I’s original plan was to have me nurse Evangeline for the first week or two, then give her expressed milk once or twice a day. Then slowly wean her onto formula and baby food at six months. But. . .I don’t know how much longer I can do it.” Zoe’s eyes lock onto her shoes, as if she’s ashamed. “I hate pumping because I don’t get a lot, and it hurts.”

“What’s it feel like?” Misty numbly questions as she’s scrolling through the MP3 player. 

“Imagine a device that just tugs on your nipples very hard and doesn’t stop.”

Misty flinches and her own breasts begin to ache. Cordelia walks in with an empty bowl. She sets it in the sink and cocks an eyebrow at Zoe. 

“What are we talking about? A wicked torture device?” the Supreme asks. 

“That would be my breast pump,” Zoe says. “Speaking of which, have you seen the caps to the bottles? Evangeline is due for a feeding soon and I’m beat.”

“They’re in the top left cabinet, in a Ziplock bag. I didn’t want them to get lost,” Cordelia replies. 

Zoe fishes out the bag and gratefully thanks Cordelia. While she’s searching for a cap that fits, Cordelia leans up against the island. 

“I saw Madison smoking today,” Cordelia declares. “I thought she was trying to quit because you have the baby now?”

Sighing, Zoe clenches her eyes shut. “She is trying. I’d rather her be able to quit cold turkey, but it’s not easy when you’ve been smoking cigarettes for a decade. She’s at least trying and I can’t be mad at that.” 

“I’m a little concerned, Zoe,” says the older woman. “She’s been trying to quit since you were four months pregnant. That’s about six months and it’s not getting much better.”

“She used to smoke almost a pack a day and now she’s down to one or two single cigarettes a day. Hell, she didn’t smoke at all yesterday! That’s progress to me, and I’m too busy being a cow to really notice.” Zoe caps the bottle and aggressively swirls it. 

“Aw, Zoe, you ain’t a cow,” Misty soothingly says. 

“I have to milk myself twice a day and have a thing feeding off of my body six times a day. I’m a damn cow!” 

No one can rightfully argue with that. Cows are milked; Zoe is milked. One and the same. Though Zoe is a human who can make choices for herself. She can willfully quit pumping and breastfeeding at any time.

“Maybe I should talk with her,” Cordelia offers. “She’s never smoked around the baby, but I’m sure the smell on Madison’s clothes can’t be pleasant for her.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Zoe nods in agreement. Whatever floats Cordelia’s rocky boat. At this point, Cordelia could a shove a lit cigarette up Madison’s ass as a lesson and Zoe wouldn’t flinch. Okay, maybe that’s too extreme—she would at least give Cordelia a scolding. 

“Zoe, are you alright? You seem kind of distant.” The Supreme switches from Madison’s bad habits to Zoe’s fiddling with the bottle cap. 

“I’m okay. It’s just. . .being the sole provider of Evangeline’s food is killing me. She wants to eat all through the night, then wakes me up at seven in the morning for another feed, then goes to sleep until nine when I’m trying to prepare for a class and wants to eat again! I’m tired and my boobs are pleading for mercy,” Zoe says. “I pump every day but get a few ounces at most.”

“She’s growing, Zoe,” Cordelia explains, smiling at the thought of her precious goddaughter. “She’s going to want to eat more and more as she grows. If you can’t produce enough, maybe it’s time for a little supplement.”

“I asked her doctor about that at her last appointment. She told me that Evangeline doesn’t need it because it’s good that she’s thriving. I told her that it’s killing me to sit and breastfeed all day because one, it hurts, and two, I have a million other things to do.”

Pausing the gentle melody of Stevie, Misty looks up and asks, “And she said?” 

“She told me to find a consultant to help me learn how to do it right. Then proceeded to tell me that giving Evangeline formula now is a bad idea,” Zoe says. Her face is aflame with anger. “I feel terrible.”

Cordelia prepares to console Zoe, but her gesture is cut short by Evangeline’s timely cries. Abandoning the bottle on the island, Zoe walks into their small den where she set up the stupid pack-n-play. Evangeline is laying in the bassinet part, wailing her lungs out. Zoe picks her up and brings her back to the kitchen, unflinching and numb. 

“My god, she’s got a set of lungs!” Misty comments over the crying. “Can’t even hear my Stevie!”

Zoe practically shoves the bottle into Evangeline’s mouth, and the baby instantly quiets. Cordelia admires it. She’s older now but still has moments where she longs for a baby. She will forever be grateful that Madison and Zoe named her and Misty as godparents. 

While Evangeline is eating and Zoe is absentmindedly feeding her, Madison enters holding a brand new pack of cigarettes in her hand. She makes a beeline for Cordelia and shoves the carton into the supreme’s hand. 

“Take them from me before I smoke them all,” she tells Cordelia. “I’m having cravings.”

“I was just about to go find you for a little talk,” Cordelia says, pocketing the carton. From the other pocket, she brings out a different type of carton. “Here. Take these instead.”

Madison examines what Cordelia’s given her, completely befuddled. 

“What the hell is this?” the younger woman snaps. 

“It’s nicotine gum. Chew it to help curb your cravings for cigarettes,” Cordelia explains. “Any time you feel yourself wanting a cigarette, chew a piece. But first, I want to get rid of your accessibility to it in the first place.” Cordelia holds her palm out. “C’mon. Hand it over.”

“I don’t have anything,” Madison says with a bite of her lip. 

“Madison. . .” 

Madison rolls her eyes and removes a single cigarette from her skirt pocket, throwing it to Cordelia. She turns to leave, but the supreme grabs her wrist and cocks an eyebrow. 

“Oh, fine.” Madison digs in her pocket and pulls out another cigarette and her infamous black lighter. Cordelia nods once and takes them. “This fucking sucks.”

As if the aftertaste in Madison’s mouth couldn’t get any worse, Evangeline parts from the bottle and begins to whine, causing Madison a headache. Zoe pats the baby’s back to elicit a burp or something, but nothing happens, so she hands her over to Madison. 

“Shh, hey, hey,” Madison croons. “What’s wrong with you?” She puts her baby over her shoulder and pats her back, and there’s a loud belching noise followed by a warm trickle of fluid going down Madison’s back. 

Evangeline goes quiet. Misty covers her mouth to hide her grin as she giggles. 

“Oh my,” Cordelia says. “It’s in your hair.”

“Goddamnit! This is Burberry!” Madison shrieks. She passes the baby back to Zoe, who looks quite stiff in emotion. “I need a goddamn cigarette.” 

“Not happening,” Cordelia chuckles. “I want you to chew that gum and learn to resist. Eventually it will become easier. Now go on.” 

As badly as she wants a cigarette, Madison utilizes whatever strength she has left to compose herself and go upstairs to wash the spit up out of her hair, and to chew her gum. Zoe shakes her head. 

“She’ll live,” Cordelia assures the brunette witch. “Now, how about you take some time to yourself and I take the baby?” 

Grateful, Zoe nods and allows Cordelia to remove the wriggling newborn from her arms. She leaves the half-empty bottle on the island and closes herself in the nearby bathroom to assess herself. Cordelia gently coos to Evangeline, who takes interest in the supreme’s hair. 

Misty, who has been playing with the MP3 player, curiously looks at the bottle and picks it up. 

“Hey, Delia?” Misty asks. 

“Hmm?” 

“Ya ever wonder what this stuff tastes like?”

Cordelia stops making silly faces and sounds and instead looks to her wife with a bizarre expression. 

“No. No, I have not. And please, for the love of god, do not find out.”

+++

Zoe finds Madison rocking back and forth in the bathtub, fully clothed, the next morning as she’s preparing for a class. It’s not too unusual. Madison generally shakes like a little bug if she’s not had her fix by nine. According to Zoe’s watch, it’s well past nine—and they’re both late for the day.

“Why are you in the tub?” Zoe asks Madison after Madison doesn’t acknowledge her. “We’re very late. I have a class and you. . .what are you doing today?” 

“Dying. I’m fucking dying.” 

Zoe rolls her eyes and sits on the edge of the tub, facing Madison. As drained as she is, Zoe is uncomfortable leaving Madison up here by herself, so she covers her watch with her sleeve and directs her focus to her wife.

“Alright, how long has it been this time?” Zoe asks. 

Madison rocks again and keeps her eyes trained on the taps as she stammers out something Zoe can’t decipher right away. Zoe brushes a stray strand of hair from Madison’s face and sighs pitifully.

“It—It’s been two days, three hours, and eight minutes.” Madison’s voice shakes harder than her body does.

“Since you’ve last had a cigarette?” Zoe asks.

“Shh!” Madison snaps, and Zoe falls off the tub. “Don’t say that word!”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you’re in the tub,” says Zoe as she picks herself up off the ground and fixes her outfit. “So why are you in the tub? In your clothes? With the water off?”

Madison’s eyes wildly shift around the room. Zoe can sense what she is searching for, and she steps back a little. 

“I was gonna take a shower to calm myself, but then I remembered I hadn’t had a you-know-what yet, and I kinda panicked and sat down in here,” Madison explains as well as she can between trembly breaths. “I was okay last night, but it’s really bad right now. I need it. I need it now. I don’t even care if I’m in consideration for council and me smoking looks bad.” 

Someone knocks on the door and Cordelia perks her head in. Disregarding the obscure scene before her, she addresses Zoe and clears her throat, avoiding look at the train wreck in the bathtub.   
  


“Zoe, your students are already prepared and waiting for you. I had Misty take Evangeline downstairs while she prepares lunch. She’ll take care of her. But you need to go now,” Cordelia says, then looks at Madison, who has not stopped trembling. “I’ll take care of this mess from here. I started it, I’ll end it.”

Zoe nods softly and squeezes Cordelia’s arm on the way out. Cordelia folds her arms and stares at Madison until the younger woman works up enough courage to look her supreme in the eye. 

“Madison, come with me.” Cordelia extends a hand.

Without question, Madison takes it, and Cordelia pulls her up and out of the tub with ease. 

Cordelia takes her to her office and closes the door, pointing to the seat in front of her desk. Madison throws herself into it and brings her knees to her chest, and Cordelia proceeds with caution when she sits down at her desk. 

“I know it’s hard,” says Cordelia. “I could feel you suffering from in here; that’s why I went to check on you. You’re having a withdrawal, Madison.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Madison spits. “This sucks! Just give me my cigarettes! Just one and I’ll go away!”

“I can’t do that. Just one is what started your dependency,” Cordelia murmurs. “Why are you doing this, Madison? Tell me why you’re trying to quit smoking forever.”

Raising her head, Madison wipes her stray tears and sniffles. Cordelia can feel the shame she feels in the moment; it’s almost crippling. 

“I have a child now,” Madison replies. “I don’t want her to breathe it in. I don’t want her clothes or toys to smell like my smoke. And I don’t want her picking up the same habit. My mom didn’t care if I smoked and that’s why I’m here now.” 

Cordelia nods in approval and grabs a picture from off her desk, flipping it around to reveal a picture of Evangeline two days after she was born. She was even tinier than she is today. Madison smiles fondly.

“You’re quitting because of her,” Cordelia says, “and that’s a good thing. Any reason to quit matters, but especially your baby. I know, without a single doubt, that you love her. Right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I can do you one better,” says Cordelia. She opens her desk drawer and pushes a little square towards Madison. “Keep that in your pocket, so any time you even consider grabbing your lighter or a cigarette, you grab that instead.”

It’s a wallet-sized picture of Zoe cradling their newborn daughter in her arms. This was taken with Misty’s phone just an hour after Zoe had given birth in their bed—which was very unplanned and messy. Madison can hardly remember living in that moment, because it all felt surreal. She can’t remember seeing it, but she remembers feeling it. 

“See?” Cordelia says. “You’re smiling. If you’ll do anything in this world, do it because of them. Not because I’m telling you to or because it’s dangerous to your health. Do it for your family. Because that’s what you have now; a family.” 

“Alright, you’ve guilt-tripped me enough,” Madison sighs. “I’m going to stick with it this time. I don’t want my kid to fucking die because inhaled toxic air. I promise.”

“Good,” Cordelia hums in approval. “Now that I’m finished with you for now, I need to talk to Zoe.”

“About what?” 

“That poor girl is struggling to feed Evangeline. Seeing as we’re calling it quits, I thought I should try to help her figure out if she truly wants to keep doing this to herself. When I was trying so hard for a baby, I was reading a ton of articles. A lot said that breastfeeding is important for newborns, and I do agree to some extent, but it’s not as important as the mother taking care of herself. Zoe is a wreck and I can’t see it being worth the stress,” Cordelia says. “Send her to me after lunch is over.”

Madison pockets the picture and gets up, going to leave and sulk in the tub some more while staring at the picture, when Cordelia stops her. 

“Oh, Madison? I really hope you do quit for good,” Cordelia says nonchalantly, wiping her desk with a cloth. “I don’t like for my council members to have bad habits.”

Madison’s jaw goes slack. “Wait. Does this mean. . .”

“I expect you in here for your first meeting Monday morning.” 

+++

Lunchtime rolls around faster than it should have. Zoe tried taking some time to nurse Evangeline, but it proved difficult and caused more pain than anything, so she let Misty feed her a bottle of the last bit of milk. Madison told her Cordelia had wanted to see her, and though Zoe treads carefully, she’s just excited to be away from the baby for awhile.

She takes a seat where Madison had been earlier and anxiously bounces her leg up and down. Cordelia shuffles some papers and waits for the bouncing to cease before she proceeds. 

“Am I in trouble? I know I was late, but it’s because I was preoccupied with Madison. It won’t happen again,” Zoe quickly insists. 

“Just relax; you aren’t in any trouble,” Cordelia says. “Why are you so panicky? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen something bad.”

“I have to feed the baby again soon. She’s out of bottles. I’m sore all over my body, but especially my breasts,” Zoe mumbles, looking at her lap to avoid Cordelia’s burning gaze. 

Cordelia lets out a small “oh” and prepares a long-winded speech on why Zoe shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to quit nursing, when Queenie bursts in carrying Evangeline in her arms. Zoe’s head throbs. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but what the hell am I supposed to feed this poor baby when she’s hungry again? Misty said she’s out of milk, and I’m up next for babysitting duty,” Queenie states. “I don’t do crying fits. This child will be at the firehouse so damn quick.”

Zoe rubs her temples, swallowing a lump in her throat. 

“I’ll try and pump some more after this, but I can’t guarantee much.”

Though Queenie isn’t confident with that answer, she accepts it for the present, and backtracks and takes Evangeline back to wherever they were. Zoe focuses on Cordelia, still rubbing her temples.

“Zoe, do you want to stop?” Cordelia simply questions.

“Yes, but—“ 

“What’s stopping you? Why are you pushing yourself to the brink of insanity?” Cordelia asks.

When Zoe begins to cry, Cordelia moves to sit beside her and brings her close. Zoe rests her head on her chest and cries there, and Cordelia holds her tight.

“Look at yourself,” whispers Cordelia. “Look what’s happening. This shouldn’t happen. I know you love Eva and you were told that this is what’s best, but it’s not best if it’s really damaging you like this,” Cordelia says. “It’s hard to choose. I know. But you have to choose between your sanity and breastfeeding. Some mothers can choose both, but you aren’t them. You have to do what you feel is right for you as a mother, as a woman. Evangeline will survive whatever you choose.”

“I read this stupid thing online that moms should always push through it if they care at all,” Zoe sniffles. “I do care, but it’s killing me to handle it. I’m either attached to a baby or a machine all the time. I’m a milk slave or something.”

“So stop. Who cares what others think. I’d like to see them live your life and deal with this,” Cordelia says with a bit of maliciousness in her voice, before she soothes back down. 

While Cordelia tries to settle Zoe down, the younger witch curls up more and leans into her supreme with such adoration and comfort that Cordelia almost tears up. Cordelia kisses the top of her head and plays with her hair.

“Stop trying to do it all, Zoe. You’re going to hurt yourself like that,” Cordelia says. “Your baby will always love you. I doubt she’ll ever hate you because you quit breastfeeding her. And I’ll pull another card; I wasn’t breastfed at all and I’m perfectly fine. The world is still turning, right?”

Zoe smiles up at Cordelia and wipes her cheeks. 

“That being said, what do you want to do right now?” Cordelia asks again, but much more firm this time. 

Matter-of-factly, Zoe pulls herself together and sits up after she’s dried her tears, and says, “Stop.”

Cordelia pats her knee and goes to sit back behind her desk. She sighs and leans back, comfortably crossing her legs. 

“Now that your issue has been resolved, you’ll be happy to know that I’ve allowed Madison on the council. So long as she can prove to me she is capable of sticking to something, like quitting smoking, and I think she’ll do it,” announces Cordelia. “I know it took me months of deliberating on it, but she’s grown so much in the last few years and I think she’s responsible enough. And I know how you hate mentioning your personal hells, but I think, whatever she experienced down there, it changed her.”

Zoe’s eyes flicker. Though it’s difficult, she keeps her hormones and emotions in check so she doesn’t begin to cry out of joy or snap out of annoyance.

“I know she’s different, but I love her. I feel bad about whatever she saw, and I feel even worse that I didn’t even attempt to bring her back sooner. We don’t talk about what she saw. We don’t even talk about how she came back. We like to pretend it didn’t happen, because we don’t want Evangeline to grow up knowing about it and being scared it could happen to her,” Zoe says. “That’s our choice as mothers. We’ll have to tell her one day, when she learns about it, but not any time soon. I’m just. . .grateful that Madison is alive and okay.”

Cordelia nods in agreement. “I agree with that, which is why I want her to be dedicated and stay on the council. I have enough faith that she’ll do fine, but if for some reason she slips up, I need you to help me with her.”

Zoe gets up and grins at the supreme. “You know I’ll get on her for it. I wouldn’t say I wear the pants in our marriage. But I would say that Madison likes to take them off all the time.”

“Goodbye, Zoe.” 

Cordelia waves her hand and opens the door. Zoe slinks out with a blush. 

+++


End file.
